Paenitet
by Azecreth
Summary: She was dead, she was dead and without her he was nothing, an empty soul, left alone in a cruel world. [Post Episode 12]


**A/N: So, hopping on the 'Slaine angst train' like everyone else, I feel no shame. This will most definitely be rendered an AU when the next season comes out in January, but I look forward to seeing what plot they conjure up to bring back the characters they theoretically killed. **

**Oh, and apologies if Slaine seems OOC, but I tried, truly. I mean, at least he had a semblance of a backstory to his credit. I just worked it as best I could. I promise the next thing I write will be happier. Probably. Hopefully. you never know.**

**Leave a review if you would, feedback is nice, helps me improve as a writer, lets me know people care.**

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><p>The Vers Landing Castle had been transformed from a proud structure to a warzone, blasted metal, the thump of explosions, gunfire, not to mention the giant warship that had crashed into it and was now jutting from a hole in the deck. Soldiers ran up and down the length of the vessel, exchanging fire as the defenders attempted to repel the boarders, while heavier weapons thundered and Kataphrakts moved about.<p>

The wind whipped past and cut to the bone, snow blown aloft by the tempest to make regular sight near impossible, and necessitated wearing heavy clothing to function without freezing. Movement was treacherous, seemingly every surface slick with ice, a fact that neither helped the defenders nor the attackers. It was the Russian Winter marshaled to fight once more, but this time in defense of Earth against the forces of the Vers Empire.

Through the maelstrom of snow and bullets a white Kataphrakt roared, ignoring the comm calls directed at it, and easily dodging all the weapons fire aimed at it, as it had on it's way in. From the hole that had been blasted into the side of the castle it charged out and quickly aimed for the sky in a rapid ascent, away from the conflict, and with how things were no one found it worth pursuing.

Inside the Kataphrakt, Slaine Troyard flew the Tharsis as best he could into the swirling clouds above, his hands shaking on the controls, though the G-Forces he felt had nothing to do with it. His eyes were dead, dull and wide open, his once pristine uniform stained with dust, blood, and wet with silently falling tears.

She, she was dead, and in the same moment he was broken, irreparably. The Princess, his princess, Princess Asseylum Vers Allusia, of the Vers Empire of Mars, was dead, killed right in front of his eyes by a vengeful madman. Now she rested in his Kataphrakt, eyes closed, the air bag built into her Terran uniform deployed, blood dripping from the gunshot wound in her chest and running down her face and neck. In death she was like a different person, the aura he was so used to banished.

As he ascended to orbit, he couldn't stop from looking at her, hoping that she would wake up right then, that it would all turn out to be a terrible dream, or that by some miracle of fate the wounds she had suffered hadn't been serious, that he was wrong and she was still here. But deep down he knew it wasn't meant to be.

In his mind, the memories, the recent events flew past his eyes once, then twice, more and more on repeat, each instant, a lifetime and a second merging together into a whole. What he could have done, what he should have done, how he could have saved her, prevented this tragedy, each possibility playing out and tearing at him with each iteration.

His fists clenched, trying to strangle the controls he manipulated. Damn that Saazbaum! Why had he saved him? It was a question he asked himself again and again as he struggled to keep himself on course. But he knew why he'd done it, why he'd made the mistake of saving the Count from his imminent demise.

It was because he knew the Count, his intentions, even had a general idea of his resources and goals. He was a known element that he could respond to, maybe even reason with if given the opportunity. He didn't know what the Terrans wanted to do with Princess Asseylum, so he had chosen the evil he knew over the one he hadn't.

He had been wrong, so, so horribly wrong. He hadn't expected that the Princess would be inside the Aldnoah Drive room when they went smashing into it, nor that Saazbaum would shoot her on sight. And now she was dead, gunned down before his very eyes, his impotence in that situation all too obvious. Sure, he'd gotten his revenge, killed Saazbaum in bereft fury, but it didn't bring her back. And even in death, the Count had mocked him and his failure.

A grunt, and grit teeth in self aimed anger as he flew upwards, passing through the storm clouds on track to the upper atmosphere.

A failure, that was what he was, nothing but a failure. He wanted to save her, to protect her from those who sought to use her, to hurt her, but he'd failed at all those things, at the duty he had placed upon himself, and the one thing he had set out to do. She had saved him, saved his life when he crashed into that pool in his escape pod, but he would never be able to return the favor, to pay his debt.

Again and again he couldn't stop himself from remembering, driving him mad with the pain as he went through the motions of flying. Princess Asseylum, his savior, his devotion. She'd saved him when he was on the verge of death, and he'd served her in return, faithfully, loyally. Much as he was a servant to her, he was a friend as well. He'd told her of Earth, acted as an emotional support and occasional advisor. And in return she was the only one who trusted him, who treated him as a person and not a lowborn Terran.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, even if there was no one to hear him. "I'm sorry that I failed you, that I let you die when I could have saved you. It should have been me, not you. The world doesn't need me. But where's the light, the point of it all, if you aren't here?" The irony that he could only really say how he felt when she was gone, was completely and totally lost on him at the moment.

Silence fell, and he was subsumed in his thoughts once again, turning to the immediate aftermath and his other choice. To that pilot, Orange. No, wait, that wasn't right. What had she called him? Oh, right, Inaho. The boy who'd fought him before. And he'd shot him, in the head and without hesitation. . He had had to do it, right? They were enemies, Inaho had said so himself, they'd fought, and he didn't know what the pilot had planned for the Princess. Besides, he'd pulled a gun, so it was self defense. Perfectly justifiable.

No, that wasn't true, he admitted with a slight shake of his head. It was more than that. He was angry, jealous even, that the Princess seemed to care about him so much, and he the same, if what he had seen was any indication, the way she went to him when his Kataphrakt was disabled, and how he crawled to her. That pilot, a Terran, who was holding her for some unknown purpose, and yet she went to him of her own volition, when she could have escaped. Slaine only wanted to protect her, help her, pay her back for all she had done for him. How dare they care for each other when he had devoted his life to her service?

He had fought for her, killed for her, done what he could to find her once he knew she was still alive, even been tortured and branded a traitor, and he hadn't given up anything, all for her sake. And yet it was he who couldn't express how he felt to her. How was that fair?

And now that Terran was dead, the Princess was dead, and Slaine would never get the chance to tell her how much she meant to him. How ironic that when he had been about to save her, she was ripped away from his grasp, and now those two could be together in the beyond while he was forced to live on and suffer in this uncaring world.

Breaching the roiling clouds, the Tharsis entered the upper atmosphere, the strain on the Aldnoah Drive and Kataphrakt easing as gravity slipped away. At the same time though, the radar pinged as two Sky Carriers showed up on a parallel vector, and a voice came over the comm.

"Count Cruhteo, we weren't aware you were returning to orbit. Or that you were in the Russian sector. Can we assist?"

Slaine glanced at the dots on the radar, making a guess as to whether they were just ignorant, or if they were in on Saazbaum's conspiracy and preparing to cover up loose ends. At last he decided that he wouldn't bother, and didn't respond to them, continuing on his course out of orbit, away from the ring of orbital castles. He got more hails, but ignored those, zoning out.

Then a flash on the monitor, and he seamlessly shifted to dodge incoming fire, the predictive abilities of the Tharsis more than capable of something that simple. "That is your last warning. Set a course for Valyard Castle immediately."

Slaine had no intention of going along with that request, not when the best he could expect was torture, prison, or death, not necessarily in that order. And he wouldn't hand over the princess to them, let them keep using her for their own agendas. So he acted, spun the Kataphrakt about, brought the Tharsis's guns to bear, and in a split second fired, dual beams of blue energy lancing out to destroy one of the Sky Carriers. The remaining craft immediately began evasive maneuvers, but the transport was no match for the Aldnoah Drive powered Kataphrakt, and it was brought down just as easily.

Pursuers eliminated, he returned to his original flight path, past the network of orbital castles into an isolated section of the Satellite Belt, rock and debris spinning and floating, smashing together like hammers. Amidst that chaotic mess the Tharsis came to a rest and Slaine sat back with a sigh. "What do I do now," he wondered aloud, knowing he shouldn't expect an answer.

Where could he go? He was still a Terran, who had served the Martians, and loyal to the Princess of Vers. Earth thought he was an enemy, Mars thought he was an enemy, everyone thought he was an enemy, and he was a friend to none. The Princess had been his sole motivation, his obsession, practically his sole purpose for living. His father was dead, and without her he was drifting, guideless, alone in a hostile universe.

At last he made up his mind. He had to go to Mars, find the Emperor and deliver to him his granddaughter. He had to tell him what had happened, and perhaps end this war at last by presenting to him evidence of the conspiracy, like she would have wanted.

He reached forward with a distinct lack of enthusiasm to manipulate the controls and plot a course to Mars, but before he could his trembling hand was arrested by another laying on it. Surprised by the sudden contact, confused, he looked over to see Asseylum leaning over him, her hand on his, and flashing him a sad smile.

"Slaine, don't" she said to him with a shake of her head.

"But...but Princess," he sputtered, objecting but able to do so fully at her presence.

"Grandfather thinks you're a traitor, remember? If you come before him, he'll have you arrested and killed for crimes against the Empire," she pointed out.

"R-Right." His head bowed in embarrassment, realizing how stupid he'd been, even needing the Princess to remind him of that simple fact. "So what should we do?"

This was right, this was how it should be. She talked, commanded, and he listened, obeyed. She was the leader, and he the follower. It was easier this way, the way the world should be, and he was comfortable with it.

"I want to explore," she replied, getting a wistful expression. "Earth and Mars aren't interested in peace, they just want to fight until the other is gone. I realize that now. Peace between the Orbital Knights and Earth was always a forlorn hope. I was idealistic and naive, I can see that now."

Slaine couldn't help but stare at her in a mixture of shock and surprise. "P-Princess," he muttered with a stunned expression. To hear her say that, it was so unlike her, but given what they both had to have been through, he couldn't argue with the intent. Terrans hated Martians. Martians hated Terrans. That was a fact that never changed. The only thing that ever differed was who was winning.

Asseylum continued without pausing really, except for a small interruption for him. "I want to get away, to see new things." She looked out the cockpit to the asteroids and stars beyond. "There are a hundred stars out there, with a thousand worlds orbiting them. Let's leave Earth, Mars, all this war and hatred behind and see what else there is in the galaxy. I want to visit them, see what's out there. That's what we should do."

The command was given, and Slaine moved to obey it with a nod. 'Yes Princess." Hands returned to the controls, he reoriented the Kataphrakt and hit the engines, Aldnoah Drive flaring up in a burst of power as the Tharsis lurched into motion.

The Kataphrakt emerged from the Satellite Belt and flew through space as Slaine shifted their course, not in the direction of Mars, but rather one of the million points of light in the sky. With no regard to how long it would take to reach, or the burning blue orb behind him, the soldier carried his burden into the void with a resolute demeanor.

His attitude was determined, focused now that he had an assigned task, and he carried it out as expertly as he could. At the same time, the Princess pressed against him, a physical proximity that unnerved him and brought a light blush to his cheeks and a sideways glance as she nuzzled against him. Her eyes drifted closed as a hand came to rest daintily on his chest, her head resting against his shoulder as well.

"Slaine, tell me about Earth," she said softly, warmth and contentment filling her tone.

"Yes Princess," he replied with a smile, and proceeded to do just that, telling her of the oceans, the skies, plants, animals, the people and culture. Most of it was stuff she'd heard before, but she didn't object to it, so he talked on, and on, filling the silence with this imagined world for her.

And he was happy. For the first time he could talk to her without fear of scolding or reprieve by nobles or other Martians. It was only him, and her, just as it should be. Even as the Aldnoah Drive failed days later, leaving the Tharsis to drift silently cold in the space between stars, lost to time and history, he wouldn't have traded it for anything else.


End file.
